


Muse

by nbspandam



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 22:03:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13668195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nbspandam/pseuds/nbspandam
Summary: Desperate to get his muse back, Kumadori asks Spandam for help. Spandam isn't a man of poetry and art by any means, but the theme is love, and love is all that Kumadori needs right now.





	Muse

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be something more explicit, but the months flew by and here is where we are now. I hope it's enjoyed nonetheless, so please leave kudos or a comment if you did!

“Why are you asking me for help with this? You know I can’t write poetry for shit.” Spandam grouses, taking a sip of his far too sweet coffee as he props his feet up on the cluttered coffee table. 

“It is not that I need your assistance, my dear, I could simply use someone who can act as my muse for this piece.” Kumadori replies, his usual mane of pink hair tied up into a ponytail for once, to keep it out of the way of his papers. 

“Mh-hm, and you want me, the man with a fucked up face, to be your muse?” Spandam raises an eyebrow at him over his cup of coffee, obviously in disbelief. 

“Of course I do. You’re my mate, and your countenance is as lovely as ever.” It’s almost painful how sincere he is when he says this kind of thing, but he really does mean it. Kumadori only wants him to see the truth in it, too. 

Spandam sputters just a bit at that, then takes a looong sip of his coffee. He shifts his gaze to a spot on the carpet, unable to look Kumadori in the eyes after that compliment. 

Kumadori smiles at him, and looks back to his scattered papers on the coffee table. Scratching at the back of his neck, he picks up a slip with an unfinished first line on it, the final stroke of the pen trailing off in a rather tragic way. His muse evades him still.

In a stroke of bad luck, he doesn’t even get the chance to pick up his pen before a barely muffled curse is heard from his mate, along with a hiss or two of pain. Of course this isn’t the first time this has happened, but it’s always a cause for concern when the object dropped in question contains hot liquids of any kind. 

It’s hardly a conscious effort when he reaches over and sets the now empty cup down on the coffee table. Looking over the stain on Spandam’s clothes, he then raises his gaze to look him in the eyes, easily seeing the frustration there. It’s simple, to spot the way his jaw is clenched and his gloved hands are curled, and that his shoulders are tense because he’s trying to hold back the litany of curses that he without a doubt wants to say. 

“Come. Let’s get you some dry clothes, and see to any possible burns.” he says, speaking without his usual gusto as he holds out his hands to him. This is hardly the first time it has happened, but he’s grown used to this particular dance, and he would hate to diverge from it when it’s comfortable for both of them. 

Spandam nods, still looking rather frustrated and angry as he takes Kumadori’s hands in his own and moves to stand, letting out another hiss. Not surprising, those stains are probably still rather hot no doubt. 

So Kumadori does as any dramatic poet would; he sweeps Spandam off of his feet and carries him to the bedroom, taking care not to jostle him too much. His ability to control his hair like an extra limb is a big help, as he doesn’t need to struggle with opening the door to their shared quarters. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know…” Spandam mumbles from his place in Kumadori’s arms, head resting against his chest and his gaze staring blankly at the wall. Some of his frustration seems gone, but something else has taken its place. 

“I want to. It hurts me to see you hurt, even after something as simple as that.” is his answer that probably wasn’t asked for, and he gingerly places him on the bed before unbuttoning his shirt. 

“It keeps happening though- How are you not sick of me dropping shit all the time yet? Hell, that was one of your favorite cups that almost crashed to the floor.” his beloved continues, face screwed up slightly with disdain, presumably for none other than himself. 

“You’re worth far more to me than that cup is, Spandam.” Kumadori can’t help being so earnest when he says that, because it’s true. He’s worth more than even the sky and its many stars to him, and he wishes so dearly that Spandam could see that himself, if only just once.

“Believe me. No matter how many things you drop, my heart is yours alone.” he continues, unperturbed by the silence as he carefully helps him remove the shirt once all the buttons are undone. He doesn’t move to do the same with his pants just yet, and instead looks at him to see if he has something to say. 

Spandam’s face is flushed, he can discern that even with the leather mask still adorning and thus covering part of it. He smiles softly at the sight, taking it as a sign that he’s accepted his words for what they are; the truth. 

The quiet isn’t an obstacle that stands between them, but he opens his mouth to speak again regardless. He doesn’t mind taking the first step, because he knows that his mate will fall in rhythm with him once he’s ready. 

“... Is my heart yours too?” 

Kumadori is given pause at that, surprised that Spandam has spoken before him. Blinking once or twice before he recovers, he then reaches out and carefully, oh so carefully, cups the side of Spandam’s head with one hand, a smile on his face again.

“Of course it is, if you want me to have it.”

And to Kumadori’s joy, he gets to witness the moment where his beloved mate returns his gesture with a smile of his own, followed by him placing his gloved hand over his. Now this is something he could write a million poems about. 

“May I kiss you?” he asks softly, still cupping Spandam’s face in one hand. 

The nod isn’t dramatic or quick, it’s a simple tip of the head that’s as natural and calm as a gentle night breeze, and it makes his smile widen all the same. To see him this relaxed despite what happened only mere minutes ago is such a blessing, and he doesn’t want anything to ruin this.

Their breath is shared in the moment before their lips meet, and all is quiet. 

It’s languid, wholly void of any sort of rush even as Kumadori rises from the floor and actually gets on the bed. They only separate for brief intervals, not because they’re consumed by desire but because they’re consumed by a love that leaves them hesitant to part ways for long. 

He wishes he could hold him forever like this. 

A soft purr snaps Kumadori out of his reverie, and he looks down to find Spandam with his eyes closed, purring quietly. At the sight of that, he can’t help but lean down and kiss him again, this time near one corner of his mouth. 

In response Spandam’s purring only seems to increase in volume, and a low rumble of his own makes its way out as he kisses another part of his face. His heart swells with affection for him, even as he makes a trail of kisses down the side of his jaw, not minding the leather before he stops at his neck. He feels moreso than sees his adam’s apple bob slightly as he swallows, Spandam’s purring picking back up. 

It’s as fluctuating and hoarse as it always seem to be, but he loves the sound of it. 

There’s one sound that he loves more though, Kumadori thinks as he watches Spandam remove the leather mask, thus leaving his entire face exposed. He notes that the leather gloves stay on, though. Well, that’s fine by him, as long as his mate is comfortable.

With that thought in mind, he then pulls off his ugly graphic t-shirt, somehow managing to not get his massive amount of hair stuck in it for once. In the midst of doing that, he feels the fleeting touches of gloved hands, and his heart flutters a bit. 

Kumadori looks over to his mate once the shirt is off, hardly having the time to blink before he feels Spandam wrap his arms around him and bury his head in his shoulder, inhaling deeply and slowly. He offers another rumble, putting one arm around his waist to keep him in place before he moves to sit closer to the headboard, thus letting him straddle his lap. 

Before long he pulls up Spandam a little further and starts kissing his neck, enjoying the way he twitches, leather clad grip tightening as time goes on. At the first hickey, a soft moan reverberates through the quiet of the room, and Kumadori lets out a growl in response. He's not going to stop now. Not when he’s heard the sound he loves the most.

And he certainly doesn’t, using his hair to lift Spandam a little higher as he makes a trail of kisses down his body. The black color that’s painted on his lips smears on Spandam’s skin, and some more possessive part deep inside of him rejoices at the thought of it staying there forever. 

He pulls him back down to kiss him again, letting Spandam wrap his arms around his neck and puts an arm in under his ass to get him as physically close as possible.    
Not even a slip of paper could fit between them now, and that’s just what he wants.

When Spandam pulls away from the searing kiss they’d shared, Kumadori’s gaze lingers on his now black-stained lips. A jolt of desire runs through him at the sight of it, and before he realizes it fully he has cupped his chin in one hand, idly running his thumb over his lower lip while his mate squirms. In that moment, he feels  _ inspired _ .

“These marks are like footprints in the sand, fleeting proof of my journey and the discoveries I’ve made on your body.” he murmurs as he pulls his hand away, giving him another kiss. It’s more of a soothing gesture this time, his apology for teasing Spandam like he has, albeit unintentionally. The purr that reaches him tells him that he is forgiven, for now.

Kumadori turns his body over and settles Spandam down on the bed, one hand easily keeping him pinned in place. His journey over the expanse of his skin begins anew, a pair of hands finding their grip on his hair before they  _ pull _ , and it leaves him dizzy.    
Not due to his hair being sensitive, but because of what the grip implies. 

Spandam is getting desperate, even though they have just begun. 

He lifts his head at another insistent tug to his hair, his hands finding purchase on Spandam’s still clothed thighs. Kumadori watches as Spandam’s blush seems to travel down his neck to his chest, and he moves his hands up to pull down his pants. 

Spandam lifts his hips slightly to make it easier, and the pants are gone soon enough while his face is just as red as before. It’s the most precious expression Kumadori has seen on him, which makes him smile. 

“... Do you plan on staring at me like that this whole time?” Spandam asks, his voice quiet but still loud enough to break the silence that’s settled over them. He fidgets a little bit, but he looks Kumadori in the eyes, where he sees nothing but love. 

“I don’t plan on it, no. But, I can’t help but be distracted when I see you like this.” Kumadori replies softly, scooting forward slightly to kiss him again, just as gentle as when they’d first started. 

“You sap.” Spandam mutters after they pull away from one another again, Kumadori’s hands coming to rest on his waist. 

“What can I say? You inspire me to say the sweetest things.” Those words leave his lips just as he dips his head down and presses his lips to the side of Spandam’s neck, his eyes closing for a moment. He inhales deeply, and noses at his jaw before he pulls back to smile at him again. 

“Really? Like what?” he asks, amusement evident in both his expression and his tone of voice as he looks up at Kumadori with the faintest smirk on his face. As if he can’t imagine him getting any sappier than this. But oh, little does he know how far Kumadori will go with his art when inspired.

He says nothing, merely taking in the sight of Spandam beneath his hands, looking so at ease despite the underlying itch to act on the tension they both share. Then, he leans over so that their lips almost touch, locking eyes with him.

“Oh how sweet your visage is, touched by me alone, in the dark of our quarters.” he murmurs, his lips brushing against Spandam’s. Kumadori then pulls his head back slightly, leaving him some room to breathe.

The reaction is practically instantaneous, Spandam’s eyes growing almost comically wide as his pale skin gains more colour than ever before. He then hides his face behind his hands, a drawn-out, strangled groan leaving him. 

“You are just- How am I supposed to give back something in return to that!?” he grumbles, peeking at Kumadori between his fingers. 

“Your love is all I need in return, my dear.” Kumadori replies with a smile, gently pulling down Spandam’s hands to kiss him again. 

“You are the sappiest, most corny poet I’ve ever had in my life.” Spandam mutters after pulling away again, though the smile on his face makes his words a compliment rather than anything even close to an insult. He loves him, so much.

“I’m the  _ only _ poet in your life, my love. You only deserve the best.” Kumadori says, then wraps his arms around him, pulling him close as he turns over to lay on his back.    
The original intention to make him come undone from his touch has been all but forgotten, with no grief over its loss. 

His inspiration has been found. His muse has returned, and he cannot thank Spandam enough for that. 


End file.
